The dragon of Green flames

(Raymond's pov) Huge time skips.

Dragonstone is a volcanic island near the entrance to Blackwater Bay. The island was fortified by my ancestors when they left the Valyrian Freehold, and it was from Dragonstone that Aegon the Conqueror began his invasion of Westeros. The active volcano is called the Dragonmont provided habitat for our dragons throughout the centuries, and signs of our activity will exist on this island for how long i do not know. Traditionally, Dragonstone is the seat of the heir apparent to the Iron Throne, often called the Prince of Dragonstone but this era ....princess. The castle was carved using ancient Valyrian magic to look like intertwining dragons, a style of architecture that exists nowhere is Westeros since the advanced techniques of masonry were lost in the Doom of Valyria.

So why am I here from the other side the continent?

The answer is quite simple, my nephew Jeoffrey Velaryon is born and father finally remembered that he had a son who lives in Oldtown. And invited (ordered) my return to kingslanding for the upcoming celebrations.

I'll be going to the kingslanding allright, but I'll make sure it will be badass!

In hindsight, i always planned to charging off to Dragonstone , once a convenient excuse to leave the Oldtown presented itself. But never thought so soon.

Hah. My grandfather Otto might just raise his dreaded eyebrow and present me with a whole list of my other "not my wisest ideas" if I ever said that to him, no matter how many of those ideas had been beneficial for Westeros ...though mainly in the Reach and house Hightower.

TEN YEARS !!!! Ten fucking years i spent my time in Oldtown. And i have accomplished many deeds to my name.

I am greatest inventor of my era ...The wise princes of the realm they call me in the Reach.

I am the most brilliant scholar ever created in the citadel , archmaester Kairos proudly proclaimed.

I earned/forged all the chained links except for Valyrian steel. Many even told me that I was Vaegon targaryen reborn. The greatest moment of my life was the disappointed face the archmaesters made when i didn't swear my oath of celibacy. They couldn't say no to prince for education i received in citadel.

Well if Oberyn Martel could do it why can't I?

And I accomplished that in the age of ten, And dropped out of citadel so i can progress on my martial training. With my knowledge i prepared my bodybuilding program to increase my strength for how to kill another person with a sword. But lacked the most important thing that makes a Targaryen of this era a Real Targaryen.

DRAGON.

SO Naturally, I formed a new plan to get a dragon of my own: i admit it wasn't a wise idea to anyone or a sane person.

In the year 116 AC i found that opportunity.

Really, it rated just ahead of keeping awake for more than an entire day in preparation for my little excursion in terms of idiocy. When I had roped my friend Desmond Redwyne into this scheme of mine, I had entertained the idea of sleeping on the journey over to the island.

Alas, I had underestimated how short a journey it would be on desmond's personal runabout. Thus, the sun had barely begun to cast its orange fingers across the sky by the time we had made it past stepstones . I had precious little time to prepare myself as we crossed the brief channel between the two most important continent of the Narrow Sea, time that I spent donning my armor to fight against pirates and slavers and finally arrived to my destination. The Dragonstone!

It would hardly do to be recognized by the locals, after all. While the guards could be convinced to help me, the Dragonkeepers were another story. They had not been informed of my visit and were more likely to confine me to the keep until my father came to resolve the matter.

That was a conversation I would very much like to avoid.

"There's a fishing village at the eastern tip of the island i have heard from a local fisherman my Prince" Desmond informed me as I tightened the last straps on my breastplate. Thank the Seven for advances in armor design and thank the Smith in particular for Master Bryar's foresight in making this particular suit easy to put on without assistance. "We'll dock there. You go tame you dragon, and then I'll-"

A near-deafening roar interrupted my friend as the early morning sky darkened above us. Slipping on my helmet, I turned to face the source of the noise, revealing a vivid red dragon climbing into the sky. It roared again, soaring westwards over our heads.

Vermithor out flying?

That was fine by me.

I can't wait to meet my smug brother Aegon with a dragon of my own.

Aegon was… not my favorite brother. Granted, I only had three of them and it was hard to beat Aegon. Especially when he is my elder with golden beautiful dragon first born son of the king and half of the westeros will fight to put him on The throne, and i can hardly fault him for that.

As for Rhaenyra she is not here to meddle in my efforts to sneak in her island holdings and steal a dragon.

Hah , all the better. This was something I could handle just fine on my own.

"I'll see in you in King's Landing, then, my friend" I said as he gave me a firm nod ,I disembarked, my voice muffled slightly by the helmet.

This was it. My last chance to back out had sailed, it was time to act.

I did not spare Desmond Redwyne and his departing ship a glance as I trudged off towards the volcano that dominated the island. The Dragonmont was smoking, as it so frequently did, and that was enough to keep most of the dragons within their lairs. Increased volcanic activity meant warmer caves, and the beasts loved little as much as a warm home.

Hopefully, that smoke did not herald a disastrous eruption.

There was a well-worn path that hugged the coastline. The hard-packed combination of soil, volcanic ash, and sand was surprisingly pleasant as far as dirt roads went, with fewer bumps than I had anticipated. Still a dirt road, though, and one that was largely unmarked. In other words, still a bother.

The disturbingly low literacy could be blamed for that, I suppose. Another reason to declaw the maesters at the earliest opportunity.

But my ideas for radically upending the social structure of Westeros could wait until after I had access to the world's angriest lizard. For now, I had to focus on finding said flying lizard's lair.

I knew it was on the eastern half of the island, if only from the last Small Council meeting i heard from grandfather even though he was not hand anymore he still often times receives reports from Tyland Lannister. I also learned that the dragon i am aiming had recently stripped a hatchery clean, so it was probably still reasonably well-fed. Hopefully, that meant the dragon was not in the mood for roast Targaryen.

Then again, I was not an expert on the dietary requirements of dragons. Or the nutritional value of dragon eggs. Considering that magic was involved, almost anything was possible. And since I had no desire to research how many dragon eggs it would take to keep a dragon satiated, it was going to remain a mystery for the foreseeable future.

For now, all that mattered was getting to the dragon's lair. That meant paying close attention to my surroundings in the hope of finding some clues. Since the beast had a marked preference for its own kind, however, there was hardly going to be a convenient trail of burned prey to follow. So I had to improvise.

Which meant taking the first path that led towards the volcano.

Because I was a smart man.

Still, there were worse plans. Caves were hard to miss, especially caves that were large enough to host this particular dragon. Such caves were more likely to be found on the side of the mountain. Thus, I continued my hike while keeping my eyes peeled for any gaps in the dark stone of the mountain.

It took hours.

Hours of marching under the pre-noon sun, while not the worst time to do so, was hardly pleasant. It was enough to reduce me to a sweaty mess in plate. Even after removing the helmet. Even with the benefit of the sea breeze. I was still hiking in full plate after all. I was sweating so badly I was almost tempted to wonder whose dumb idea that was, but I didn't.

Because I was a smart man.

As the sun began to reach its zenith, I finally found it.

A gaping hole in the side of the Dragonmont. Scorch marks dotted the surrounding rocks and what little vegetation had managed to grow had long since been reduced to cinders and ash. It was a dragon's lair, that much was certain. And since there were only two wild dragons on the island worth mentioning, I was fairly confident that this cave belonged to my target.

There was no sense in delaying the inevitable.

Simply approaching the cave filled me with dread. This was a beast that had never known a rider. This was a beast whose preferred prey was dragons. How much of the 'blood of the dragon' was metonymy, I wondered, and how much was literal?

More importantly, would it matter? Taming a dragon was more an art than a science. While there was plenty of literature about dragon hatching and rearing, there was precious little about the act of taming itself.

Normally, there was a presumption of knowing your target; These were intelligent creatures, and you had to tailor your approach appropriately. How aggressive was it? How much did it eat? Who was its last rider? There were half a hundred variables to consider.

The Cannibal was old, angry, liked to eat smaller dragons, and had never been ridden before. Any one of those qualities would have been a red flag large enough to function as a Lannister banner.

Combined, it made me painfully aware of just how much of a foolhardy idea this was. There likely wouldn't even be enough of me left for my parents to perform the funeral rites for if this didn't work.

At least now I had confirmation that the Cannibal, if this was indeed his lair, ate things other than smaller dragons. At least three mangled sheep skeletons poked through piles of ash, along with a cow's head and far too many human skulls for my liking.

Ah, there it was!

In between piles of pale bone smothered in dark ash rested smaller pieces of gleaming black bone, and that was all the confirmation I needed.

This was the Cannibal's lair, and it left me feeling all too vulnerable.

But this was the first step of the third phase of my master plan. Phases one and two would not bear fruit for quite some time, being personal and economic in nature, but this one would generate near immediate returns. More importantly, if the other parts failed, this was my backup. This was my greatest weapon to keep my family safe for at least the decade ahead, if not the one after.

I could settle for mediocrity or try to make a difference. And in this life or the past one, mediocrity was never going to be enough.

"Cannibal!" I called out into the darkness of the cave. "Show yourself!"

On cue, two glowing orbs of venomous green larger than my head blinked into existence in the dark cave. The pupils were tiny specks of black, smaller than my hand, smaller than they had any right to be in a cave that dark.

Here I go.

"I am Raemond Targaryen !" I announced myself. "And I have need of you."

The orbs tilted slightly, the head that housed them turning in a mute query before returning to their normal position, growing larger as they neared. Slowly, a massive head left the darkness of the cave, sliding into the brightly lit outside world. The coal-black head was nearly twice as high as I and moved with a grace that I did not expect from a creature of that size.

"I have need of a dragon, and who better than you?" I asked and was met in turn with a growl so deep I felt it resonate deep within my chest. Perhaps this was the wrong approach to take? Time to change strategies. "You are the greatest of the dragons on this island. Why should I settle for a creature that thinks a diet of pure mutton makes it strong?"

The growl subsided and more the dragon revealed itself, sliding further into the light as a resounding thump heralded a forelimb dragging the body of the massive creature closer still. I could make out some spines along the neck of the creatures, though the nape was thankfully free of them.

Green eyes, pupils still frighteningly small, bored into mine with a hint of impatience.

It was unnerving how much intelligence was hidden in such a small movement. Just how smart was this beast?

"My family will wipe itself out if I do not intervene, pitting brother against sister, dragon against-" I explained, earning another bone-rattling growl. Yes the promise of violence is appealing to the Cannibal it seems.

Yes a future of glorious battle is definitely to its liking.

" I need to intervene i need to fight for my family the part that I love, and I cannot do so without you, i cannot win the battle without you i will make sure you have your dragon meals + the riders , And lastly i will personally care for you long as I live," I explained, and the growl dissipated. Was it me, or was there a fading green light peering through those black fangs? Reaching out with an armored hand, I stood my ground, invited him to come to me. "That is my offer to you."

Immediately, he roared, his eyes blazing once more in reaction to the perceived insult. But no green light showed itself in his throat, and he did not advance at all.

I stood my ground as the roar washed over me as my pulse pounded in my throat. Uncertainty would doom me. Weakness would doom me. Confidence, the blood of the dragon, would prevail.

Gently, hesitantly, the massive black head neared the offered hand. Giant nostrils sniffed at the limb and its iron plating. For a pulse-pounding moment, the beast before me seemed to weigh its options. Its lips drew back in a snarl as it nudged my hand slightly.

It took every ounce of nerve in my body to keep myself from flinching.

Of course, I was the blood of the dragon, and why would I flinch from myself?

Seemingly satisfied, the Cannibal bent its neck, lowering its nape to let me climb on.

That went better than expected, frankly.